


Unpleasantries & Betrayal

by RedlaSunShowers029



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Cannon deviation, Christine intervenes about halfway through, Drunk!Jeremy, Fear of Death, Fearplay, Foodplay?, M/M, Macro/Micro, Pred!Jeremy, Prey!Michael, Psychological Trauma, Underage Drinking, Vomiting, Vore, again it's nonfatal but yeah yikes, brief mention and use of an emetic, digestion (of food), drunk pred, emotional aftercare, it's brief but it's there, just want to make sure that's clear, misconceptions of safety, nobody dies or gets severely hurt it's just... psychologically dark, nonfatal vore, prolonged entrapment, safe vore, the Squip does some tampering, this is a dead-serious vore fic it's not joke content, this is much ickier and darker than I usually go, this is pretty much straight-up angst, this is suuuuper gross be warned, unwilling vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 09:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedlaSunShowers029/pseuds/RedlaSunShowers029
Summary: A.K.A Michael In The Belly whoopsOf all possible ways this night could end, this had to be the worst outcome imaginable.





	Unpleasantries & Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> Let me be very, very clear tagging this: this is a completely serious fic, it is not joke content. While there is NO DEATH in it, there are multiple mentions / perceptions of fatality, pretty detailed digestion (of food don't worry), psychological damage occurs, and it is just generally unpleasant. Please do not go into this expecting any different, and feel free to turn back if that's not your cup of tea. If this is what you're here for, though, then feel free to read! I just don't want anyone stumbling into this by mistake. ^^
> 
> Uhh... I blame one of my server members for this concept. You know who you are.

There were no words to address the rising anger coursing through Jeremy's veins. None of this was going right at all, and to make matters worse every second of this conversation had run further and further on his nerves. Perfect, juuust perfect. Why did everyone here seem to think he wanted to be talked down to, hounded, or told to “come to his senses?” There was enough of that bullshit in his daily life - and honestly, he'd hoped this Halloween party would've been a respite. Guess that's what he got for thinking things would ever go his way.

 

But of all things, why did  _ Michael _ have to make this hard? The genuine relief to see his lifetime best friend had worn off quickly after being berated and scolded, leaving him sore and tired. Even now it didn't seem like Michael was taking the hint at all, standing right in front of the door as though that would stop him. Honestly, how sizable did Michael actually  _ think _ he was? He was hardly a few inches tall, and that definitely didn't come to much of an advantage compared with Jeremy’s own nearly 6 foot statute. It wasn't like this was new, either - hell, size difference of such extremities was common enough in this strange world. That didn't mean either of them tried to overlook the reality of it, or at least, that's what Jeremy had thought until now.

 

The sickening static was the only thing providing evidence of his Squip’s presence, rubbing his head as he tried to refocus. Oh geez, what a night. He was scattered and hurt, but still conscious enough for the moment to take into account that moving forward could be risky. He didn't want to hurt Michael, merely get out of this situation as best he could. Better to warn him before shuffling forward, making sure that he stopped a good foot away.

 

“Come on, man, move it.”

 

There was a hint of genuine concern in his voice, but it was hard to detect under the heavy aura of irritation. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, Jeremy looks down carefully, waiting for Michael to at least acknowledge him.

 

Being approached definitely had the smaller teen shuffling back a little himself, looking up uneasily. Unease quickly turned to incredulity, scoffing; honestly,  _ this _ was how things were going to go? If Jeremy would just listen… It wasn't like it was a question as to who was more level-headed now. Jeremy  _ knew _ he was right - he just didn't want to admit it. Would it kill him to be wrong, though? The human’s demeanor was definitely unsettling, but Michael wasn't going to settle for being shoved back into a corner and forgotten all over again, holding eye contact challengingly.

 

“Or you'll  _ what _ ?”

 

That was definitely a mistake; something was off about Jeremy, and at this point it honestly didn't seem to be the Squip. No, he honestly seemed… Hostile? Dare he say it… Dangerous, even? No no, that couldn't be right. The look of pure hostility and desperation in Jeremy's eyes, however, had Michael considering whether that was a valid assessment even still.

 

“Oh, come on - don't give me that.”

 

Jeremy watched Michael flinch a bit as he stamped his foot, teeth bared into a snarl. At this point the alcohol was beginning to kick in, even further scattering his thoughts. It wasn't like he was asking Michael to be happy about this, although it would've been nice if he'd just let him have this one good thing. Since when did things ever turn out for him, anyways? Not now, that was for certain. Faltering, he gave a soft growl, a bit more forceful this time:

 

“I mean it.  _ Move it.”  _

 

“And you think  _ I'm _ not being serious?” Michael appeared genuinely offended upon this, clearly not taking in any of the meaning of hostility. That only made Jeremy more peeved, debating how to handle this. “I'm not going anywhere.”

 

“Oh, that's what you think.”

 

Jeremy knelt down, dropping down to level and briskly snatching him from the floor. Were he in a more coherent state, Michael’s refusal to move up until the last moment would've been applaudable, but frankly right now he just wanted to get this over with. Whatever “this” was.

 

Well, shit. This definitely wasn't ideal, especially with the way things were going. Squirming irritably in Jeremy's grasp, Michael debated whether it was a good idea to keep talking or merely go silent at this point. The more resistance he provided, the harsher the gaze was upon him - but it seemed that mentally, Jeremy was half present at best. What was -

 

Oh, he was drunk. Soft hiccuping confirmed this, the grasp loosening before returning to normal. Okay, that explained a lot. To be fair, Michael himself wasn't exactly sober, but still mentally present enough to rationally acknowledge that this was not a great situation to be in. Just to make sure that Jeremy was well aware he was still present, he kept eye contact, somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of what would happen if he broke it.

 

Jeremy regarded Michael incredulously, his brain hardly functioning by now. Raising a brow, he debated what would be the best course of action; he honestly didn't want to let Michael go that easily for the trouble he'd caused, but he knew he couldn't hold onto him forever. Not physically, at least. But then what?

 

One thing was for sure: the way Jeremy was looking at him was  _ not  _ pleasant at all. There was a strange sort of aura to it all, as though sickeningly curious. What thoughts were going through his mind Michael wasn't entirely sure, but it wasn't comforting at all when he acknowledged what he could only pick up as… Hunger? That… That couldn't possibly be it though! No it… Whatever it was, however, it did make him tense, squirming a little more persistently in Jeremy's palm.

 

“Don't say I didn't warn you.”

 

The words alone had Michael chilled to the bone, glancing up uneasily as the words slipped Jeremy's lips. There was a condescending aura around it all that was frustrating if not terrifying, the slurred speech giving all too clear an indication that the human’s thoughts weren't even cohesive at this point. Whatever was left was pure intoxication and emotional charge, neither of which spoke in his favor. The fact that Jeremy had needed to hear what he had to say hardly even seemed to register now. No, at this point all Michael wanted to do was to get away, something which he shouldn't have to feel while being held by his best friend. In other contexts, it would've been soothing; in this context it was anything but reassuring. And he hardly thought it was going to end here.

 

“H-Hey man, put me down.”

 

“Why should I?” There was a hint of a breathy laugh embedded in this statement, only making things more uncomfortable than they needed to be. “What - you think you can just tell me off like that without any consequence?”

 

“... I don't know what you're talking about. Look, we can leave this conversation for when you're sober.”

 

“Just shut up.”

 

If nothing else had the hair standing up on the back of Michael's neck, this definitely did. There was a rising hostility in the human’s voice, clearly meaning what he'd said. Shuddering, Michael squirmed a little more, then grew completely still as he felt Jeremy draw his hand closer to his face. His eyes had never seemed to icy and uncaring as right now, right up close. Unnerving didn't even begin to cut it.

 

“Okay, just… Let me go. Please.” Michael didn't care how desperate he sounded, flinching away uneasily.

 

“Let you go, huh?” Michael yelped as Jeremy nearly dropped him, only catching him by the back of his hoodie. Essentially suspended several feet from what was a clearly deadly height, he whimpered, eyes growing wider.

 

“Christ! N-N-No, set me down, don't  _ drop me _ for god’s sake!”

 

But Jeremy wasn't listening. His expression returned to that same wicked curiosity as before, so uncharacteristic of him as he lifted Michael to his face once more. A tense grin spread across Michael's face, waiting to hear this was some kind of joke, despite the unlikely probability. He only relaxed when Jeremy secured his chest with thumb and forefinger, although not quite appreciating it when he wasn't lowered - and, rather lifted. 

 

What was happening? Did he even want to know? His vision had been unfocused through the majority of this, not totally processing things out of anxiety and fear. Maybe now would be a good time to -

 

It only took a single glance down to have him grasping on tight with both hands, going horribly pale as he realized what was going on. Warm breath rolled over him as he found himself staring down - directly into Jeremy's gaping maw, tongue outstretched to catch him. Disbelieving, the reality clicked together all too quickly, a shriek forcing its way out before he could even begin trying to suppress it:

 

“What the  _ hell do you think you're doing?!” _

 

Words could not describe how appalling this was, on both a physical and visceral state of being. At this angle, Michael could see  _ everything _ , from the slick confines of Jeremy's jaws to the deep, awaiting throat further back. Thick strands of saliva hung in a sticky web from the roof of Jeremy's mouth to tongue, more globs of spit forming at the base of his jaws. His trembling only got worse as Jeremy swallowed, mouth still wide open all the while. Michael certainly could've lived without seeing the rippling movement of the muscles beneath him, especially with the connotation it held at this size and in this situation. Of all possible outcomes,  _ this _ was the one fate had decided?! Really?

 

There was hardly a comprehensible thought available to latch onto, his mind working so quickly and instinct shouting at him to try and get away. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to talk Jeremy out of this or else he was pretty damn certain he wouldn't  _ get  _ another chance to talk sense into him.

 

“Shit. Okay look - enough of this. Come on, just set me down and you can go.” This wasn't at all what he wanted, but if his options were to be eaten or allow Jeremy to slip away for the time being, he'd (very reluctantly) choose the latter. Michael rationed he could fight this out when Jeremy was sober again, whereas he really couldn't do that if he was dead. Because naturally that was the route things would go like this. Right? There'd been tales of survivors of such a scenario, but the validity of these stories and reports (even from alleged survivors) was dubious at best. It was part of the reason that there were so many warnings about mingling with humans, but Michael had hardly seen the harm in doing so - up until now. This was a very dangerous line to be walking either way - he didn't have to be told that. God, was Jeremy even comprehending what he was saying?

 

No. Jeremy found himself zoned out at best, not even quite sure  _ he  _ knew what he was doing. His eyes flickered to Michael, squinting as he tried and failed to put it all together. All he could really make out in this state was his own growing irritation, figuring it best to just commit for the time being. He wasn't even thinking about it as his own sweat and Michael’s squirming had his grasp loosening all on its own, even with the smaller teen’s desperate efforts to hold on. The begging and pleading merely sounded like gibberish in his intoxicated state, finally releasing his grasp once and for all. Better to just get done with it, right?

 

“Hey, wait! Jeremy n-!”

 

A little too late it, seemed - Michael didn't even manage to finish his sentence before he found himself plummeting directly into the maw below.

 

Michael's cries were muffled as Jeremy closed his jaws, shutting him in complete darkness. Squinting uncomfortably, he did his best to keep composure enough to figure out how to get back out, but with the growing fear encircling his mind that alone was difficult. There was a small bit of light seeping in from Jeremy's jaws, so maybe if he could just -

 

A thick gulp caught him off guard, almost instantly verging on panic. Before he could even get oriented at this angle Jeremy's head tipped back, leaving him to scrabble helplessly against the tongue. No use, it seemed; his nails did nothing to latch onto the slick muscle, especially as it raised beneath him, pinning him to the roof of Jeremy's mouth. His only real hope was to try and lodge himself in place, slipping back all too quickly to manage this particularly well.

 

Of course this solution wasn't immediate; the slipping and sliding within was beyond tiresome, and uncomfortable as well. As Michael attempted to crawl further forward, Jeremy growled impatiently, ramming a finger back as he swallowed a bit more sharply. Jeremy could still feel some resistance as Michael managed to jam himself in the awaiting throat, choking and spluttering; it was  _ not  _ as easy as it looked, and quite honestly he wasn't sure how anyone managed this feat. No, this wasn't completely unheard of, but Jeremy had never had the confidence or necessity to enact it before now. This was different, though; beyond mentally impaired, it had brought along a completely different side of him. Every gulp seemed to weaken Michael little by little, until finally a fourth or fifth swallow sent him down smoothly. It was obvious from sensation alone that Michael was still wriggling a bit, but not enough to halt his descent.

 

This couldn't be happening. Of all people to commit to such an atrocious act - really? But the thick walls of the muscular throat confirmed it in a way all too real to deny, not yielding or ceasing as Michael dug his hands into the flesh; no, it was too strong to fight against. Through twelve years Jeremy had been there for him, through thick and thin, yet where was he now? Swallowing him down like he meant  _ nothing _ . The pounding of Michael's heart wouldn't leave him alone on the trip down, beats getting more frantic as he heard Jeremy's own heart not far at all from his location, passing it by in a matter of seconds.

 

A sharp yelp escaped him as Michael reached his destination, plummeting unceremoniously down into the depths below. Skidding down to the pit of Jeremy's stomach, the smaller boy trembled violently as he took in the dreadful reality, shaken both physically and mentally at the appreciative gurgle upon his entrance. Coughing, he struggled to stand up, horrified at just how deep the fluids around him were. The whole interior absolutely reeked of beer and stomach acid, and a mix of assorted enzymes he couldn't place.

 

And what's worse, it didn't take him long to figure out he was far from the only occupant. Within the mix of gastric chemicals and alcohol Michael could distinctly make out something slimy and semi-solid, the masticated, actively digesting remains of food all around him. As if being swallowed alive wasn't dehumanizing enough. This was beyond just gross - it was dangerous, without a doubt. While nothing had happened just yet, he doubted that'd last long; he'd only been trapped for mere seconds, after all, not enough time for things to kick in quite yet.

 

_ Maybe if I just think things through then - _

 

Another rumble broke Michael's train of thought, emitting another startled cry before he could even suppress it. Hell, he didn't  _ want _ to suppress it, not in this death trap. Fuck staying calm - that wasn't going to do him any good. This was about survival, and one way or another things were going to get ugly - starting with the compressing grasp of the stomach walls. One way or another, he was going to have to fight his way out of this one, and make his presence from within impossible to ignore.

 

_ “JEREMY!” _

 

At the very least that situation had been taken care of, Jeremy thought to himself, that much confirmed by the satisfying fullness and contented bubbling of his stomach. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jeremy turned the doorknob and stepped back out of the bathroom, returning his attention back to the rest of the party. Honestly, everyone had to waste their time standing in his way - shaking away those thoughts, he tried to refocus himself on present matters.

 

Which of course couldn't have been harder now. Not moments after he'd decided to make his way back out, a sharp pain seized him up from within, clutching his stomach as the feeling of nausea began to spread. Seriously?! Honestly, it didn't need to be that difficult - it wasn't like this was lethal, or at least that's what Jeremy currently believed. There were tonics that made things neutral and removed dangerous conditions altogether, and he would've sworn up and down he'd remembered to take it beforehand. Growling with frustration, Jeremy pushed back roughly at the shoves and kicks, rubbing and kneading into his now aching gut in hopes of mitigating the unpleasant sensation. 

 

The groans and growls had become discomforted, and that much was obvious, but it didn’t seem to be enough yet. The sweltering heat, the consistent rough churning and the sloshing of thick fluids combined made Michael’s attempts nearly impossible. Seemed he had managed to at least begin to have some progress - but that progress seemed to be waning all the same. The moment he actually managed to kick and shove against the slick walls, he could feel the pressure from the outside, shoving and massaging him right back to the center.

 

“C-Come on, man, this isn’t funny anymore! Spit me out!”

 

This was bad. This was very, very bad - and it seemed that getting Jeremy’s attention wasn’t at all working out for him. But if he couldn’t manage to upset his friend’s stomach enough to release him, well… He could safely assume he was done for.

 

Jeremy huffed with annoyance, still unable to totally quell the struggling. It seemed however that with every moment of this the shoving got fainter, the muffled shouting even harder to hear or even register the source of. Finally it seemed to stop momentarily, feeling the weight shift back down away from the walls, splashing back into the fluids with disorganized movement. Hopefully that’d be the last of it - for now, anyways.

 

It wasn’t like he actually meant Michael any harm - merely to mitigate his influence for the time being, keep him from making the rest of the night a hellscape. Jeremy simply didn’t realize that he’d essentially done just that in reverse, however - but there would be some time until he finally recovered and realized that. Seemed he’d at least managed to soothe the indigestion, feeling the food that had been disturbed by the outburst begin to settle. Michael, however, did not.

 

How could he possibly stay calm in a place like this? Regardless of the intent of Jeremy’s actions there was only one way things could realistically go. Michael yelped in horror as a distinct tingling began to spread through his nerves, knowing all too well what that logically meant. Trying to stand was a challenge all its own, between the slick confines and everything else that was hopelessly trapped alongside him. But nervously, he managed to fight his way through it, beginning to try and climb his way back out.

 

Ugh, it felt so disgusting, on more levels than one. Grumbling with indignation and anxiety, taking it bit by bit, slipping down a little bit more than once… It took some time, but it was damn well worth it to stay out of the growing pool of acid down below. It took a little bit of clawing to get a hold on things, but Michael managed well enough. The only logical thing now was to try and pry the entrance back open, or at least irritate it enough to release him. He reached it soon enough, but it only took a couple sharp tugs and shoves to tell the damn thing was squeezed shut too tightly for him to manage. Michael's infinitesimal height had never spoken so loudly against his favor, and it certainly wasn't the only thing.

 

A deep, low groan resonated around him, shaking his surroundings like a relentless earthquake. A sharp yowl escaped him as it wrenched him from his current location. No amount of bracing for the impact could stop it, sliding right back into the sludge. So much for that, so much for… Everything, really. It was useless. Already much worse thoughts were starting to take hold… And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop them.

 

_ I'm not getting out of this, am I? _

 

The realization clicked all too clearly in Michael's mind. His attempts had left him sore and aching, and it wasn't like Jeremy was about to let him go. Not in that drunken state, anyways, and he didn't have the time to wait it out until he sobered up enough to realize what had happened.  _ If  _ he ever realized what had happened. This situation made it clear above all else that Jeremy no longer cared what happened to him, trapping him here without hopes of escape. Left to meet the same fate as everything else around him, nothing more than a snack - devoured, digested, forgotten in an instant. The tingling sensation had begun to get stronger, and it was all he could do to try and regulate his breathing, but even still it wasn't long until Michael found himself hyperventilating. Desperate, betrayed tears cascaded down his cheeks, spilling down into the fluids from behind his glasses. Michael didn't even bother to wipe them off - already soaked from head to toe in the foul sludge it wouldn't do any good, anyways. No, it was pretty obvious now he was fated to die.

 

Helpless. Michael had never in his life felt so  _ helpless.  _ Hugging himself tightly just to keep from all-out panic, the word dug into his mind and engraved itself within his brain. Everything had been fine before the Squip - everything probably  _ would've  _ been fine without that wretched machine. Even with it off he was sure it had -

 

_ No. _ This wasn't about the Squip at all. It was off, and Michael doubted that it had been able to see that far in advance to elicit such a living nightmare. Everything about this had nothing to do with  _ it _ , and all to do with  _ Jeremy _ . Somehow that just made things worse.

 

Several minutes went on like this, trying to avoid being swept under by the current, trying to stop the fear from taking over, but at the very least the latter of the two objectives was useless. It was next to impossible to imagine things could get better from here, and honestly, it was better to try and get adjusted, as comfortable as possible for the hell that awaited him. That was really the only thing he could do, practically giving up then and there.

 

He just hoped it'd be quick.

 

The following hour could not have been slower. The noises around Michael were persistent and unyielding, the fluids rising bit by bit as the stomach tried to finish off its meal. Every second it seemed the fizzling was getting more intense until the sound and sensation was unbearable, trying to stand up to get out of it only to be shoved back down again. The churning got infinitely rougher as time progressed, the walls of Jeremy's cruel gut ensnaring him more than once, kneading the acids and enzymes into his trembling form. There was no escape, so why was he even still hoping? Hoping against hope - it was the only thing which made the pain any better. The only thing which seemed to block out the growing mental agony, the bitterness, resentment.

 

The first fifteen minutes of this, Jeremy had spoken a couple times. The human’s voice echoed around Michael clearly, and the first few times it seemed like maybe he'd figure it out - but no. Every time Jeremy was either muttering to himself or talking to another guest, seemingly forgotten about the current predicament entirely. Multiple times a splash of  _ something _ met Michael down in the pit - the stench of beer soaked through him, the second time water. Both times had him spluttering, then settling back again, wriggling lightly in protest. By the end of it all at least the fluids had died down, everything feeling much more liquid than solid around him, as though the stomach had almost completely taken care of digesting everything except for him.

 

_ Everything except for him. _

 

The realization of this was too blatant to ignore. An hour of this torture, yet Michael couldn't draw any other conclusion to it but that he'd survived. How the hell -?! He'd been surprised enough that he hadn't run out of oxygen long ago (almost bitter about it - getting stuck in such conditions unconscious would've been far more merciful), but this was something all on its own.

 

Somehow, he was still  _ alive _ . But in what condition?

 

Hesitating, Michael ran his fingers across the opposing hand, squeezing it. No burns, no numb spots, no acid damage. Nothing. Even the tingling sensation from before had completely died down, nerves completely intact. The worst condition he seemed to be in was slathered in ooze and slime. The very notion, let alone the reality, left him bewildered and uncertain beyond belief.

 

Jeremy pushed his way through the crowd, trying to determine his next destination. At this point the novelty of the night had worn off - nothing had felt the same since the bathroom incident. Besides, he couldn't throw off the weird sensation in his stomach, almost like something was… Squirming around inside him? The brunette audibly scoffed at this notion. That was ridiculous. No, he was surely imagining things now. Giving his belly a cautionary pat, he strode to the other side of the room as he noticed a familiar face.

 

It was obvious enough from the movements around Michael that there was still a bit of time left until Jeremy totally came to his senses, but he was beginning to get there. His gait was at least steadier, but to be honest at the current moment Michael had more important things to address right now. It was nearly impossible to hear anything from the outside with the persistent bubbling and gurgling, the acids and enzymes continually working away at the majority of the human’s stomach contents. All it seemed, realistically, except for him even as time progressed; no, strange as it was it did indeed seem he remained intact even with all else liquefying before his very eyes. That didn't mean Michael felt particularly safe in light of all else, though. Irritated at his continual lack of success, Michael brushed against the walls once more, although recoiled as this seemed to do little more than produce more fluids. Grumbling in paranoia and disgust, Michael slapped it away, crossing his arms as he reluctantly reclined against the undulating stomach wall.

 

Something had begun to change in the regularities of Jeremy's heart pounding somewhere above him; that was obvious based on the slight skips in beat, slightly shorter intake of breath. But it wasn't induced by panic - no, it seemed infatuation. He must've found Christine, no doubt -  _ great. _ Usually that wouldn't have been an issue, but did Jeremy  _ really  _ have to sit down and chat right now? It only seemed more apparent to Michael now than ever that there was little chance he was getting out at this rate, even if he'd survived this long. Frankly, he just wanted it to be over with.

 

Whatever bits of conversation they were having was muffled at best, only Jeremy's side of it clearly audible. If Jeremy was going to tune him out, though, then two could play at that game. Besides, it didn't really feel fair for him to keep hoping against hope when Jeremy gave him no reason to believe there was any to be had. Not thanks to Jeremy’s judgement, anyways. It was still worth noting that Jeremy was sobering up a little. He still had a chance.

 

Was it even worth trying to get his attention though? Honestly, better than just sitting and sulking. Another rough shove met the stomach walls, groaning with displeasure. Maybe that'd get him to his senses.

 

Upon this, Jeremy quirked a brow. There it was again: that strange, light feeling in his stomach. But how could -? No, it couldn't be; in his drunken state, he had little to no recollection of anything of that sort. His attention returned to Christine, somewhat sheepish as she looked at him expectantly.

 

“Sorry, wha-?”

 

“You okay, Jeremy?”

 

Oh, that was all. Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck, wiping away the sweat. “Y-Yeah I'm fine, thanks.”

 

That wasn't quite the answer Michael wanted, giving another shove. This was met with a light shove from the outside, not aggressive, just confused. He was getting there, not quite realizing what the source was but it at least beat being ignored or forgotten. This time Michael proceeded to run a hand along the stomach walls, cringing as he rubbed feebly against the rugae.

 

That was undoubtedly strange. Raising a brow, Jeremy returned his attention internally. That didn't feel natural at all, but familiar all the same… Weird. He didn't want to lose Christine's focus, though, looking back up apologetically. “I guess I'm not particularly used to these kinds of parties is all…”

 

“It can be a bit of an adjustment, especially if you're just getting to know everyone,” Christine replied, scooting closer. “At least it seems like you're fitting in pretty well.”

 

“Still figuring things out,” Jeremy admitted, chuckling softly. Honestly, this moment could've been perfect if he'd let it have been, starting to relax for the time being. Even still, he felt like he was forgetting something…

 

And then it hit him. The nagging sensation that he wasn't alone. The weird feeling in his belly. The scrabbling and peculiar noises from within. In an instant he pulled back, eyes drifting in horror towards his midsection.

 

“I think I just made a terrible mistake,” he managed, pressing in lightly. To his horror, something from within irritably shoved back. “O-Oh my god,  _ Michael!” _

 

The thudding of Jeremy's heart rang clear as day, the accelerated beat taking over everything else. The sloshing of the stomach fluids had become more persistent, leaving Michael to cling onto the walls to avoid slipping further into them. Honestly he didn't know what to feel about this whole situation; all hurt and betrayal had essentially run their course, leaving him sore and exhausted. But it seemed that Jeremy had at least recognized what had happened, and he had that to be grateful for. Would the reality have a lasting effect on him, or wear off within seconds? Michael didn't have enough energy left in him to care one way or another. Whatever meant this heinous night was over quicker.

 

“He should be fine,” Christine assured softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “as long as you took a neutralizer first. This isn't unheard of.”

 

Jeremy's eyes widened, his hand clutching his abdomen nervously as a low groan emanated from within. “... Did I even… Take one? I-I can't remember…!” Things seemed too active to be reassuring, able to practically feel everything else liquefying inside him at this point. Michael's weight from within became more concentrated on a specific spot, draped across one of the stomach walls, hardly moving in his exhaustion.

 

“Here. Take this.” The concern in Christine's voice was apparent, and Jeremy didn't dare object, taking the flute of amber fluid from her and downing it in one gulp. It didn't taste particularly pleasant, but if it was what halted the process, then so be it. He could feel the movements from within get more agitated, something of an exasperated, undignified shout following the fluid’s arrival.

 

Seriously, would it kill Jeremy not to add to the current contents of his stomach?! Even still, that seemed to change something; the stomach around him groaned, and Michael squirmed uncomfortably as the fluids around him bubbled and fizzed a little more intensely than before. This time, however, it didn't seem to be diminishing the contents to chyme, but rather halting things entirely. What was happening - and most importantly, had Jeremy truly come to his senses? Michael pressed an ear against the walls, hoping he could hear what was going on outside.

 

“You should probably get back home. Did you drive here?”

 

“Yeah. Don't worry, it'll be okay… I think. I know my way back.” Jeremy hiccuped, somewhat embarrassed by the incredulous look he was being given.

 

“You're not in any condition to be out on the road. I'll take you back, okay?”

 

Were it in a different context, Jeremy wouldn't have been anything but excited by this arrangement. But right now, drunk, scattered, and having fully revealed to her exactly what he had done, Jeremy was nothing shy of ashamed and guilty. He didn't object to this nonetheless, following Christine somewhat apologetically towards the front. When he showed signs of straggling she grasped his arm, gently but firmly pulling him in the right direction.

 

If anything, this only increased his infatuation; even after revealing just how much of a screw-up he was, Christine was still there for him. The situation wasn't great, but she didn't seem afraid of what he'd done exactly, and with his growing fears and disbelief it was good at least one of the three of them didn't consider him a monster. After all, he didn't even have to think twice about what Michael probably felt right now, all cramped and slimy and… Nope, that wasn't productive. He slunk to the passenger’s side quietly, waiting until Christine got in to speak again.

 

“Just making sure, you do have a licence, right?”

 

“Nope, I'm thinking about breaking the law tonight. You know how it is.”

 

Jeremy stared at her incredulously, only relaxing when she snorted in response to his clueless expression. “I’m joking; of course I do. Slide me the directions to your house and I'll take care of it.”

 

Michael flinched at the sound of a click from the outside, not too far from his own location. Sounded like a seatbelt - so he was going home after all? Probably for the better, for both of them. He still had trouble hearing what was going on past this, but this meant his chances were better at the very least.

 

A couple moments of silence followed, and Michael simply didn't have the energy left in him to try and hear what he presumed Christine was saying.

 

“Y-Yeah, I can… Still feel him.”

 

The weight of Jeremy's hand settled upon his location, not rough like before, but still unnerving. The palpitations from above were the only things keeping Michael from pressing back in annoyance; given that combined with the strain of Jeremy's breathing, he seemed genuinely alarmed at what he had done. Didn't mean it erased the traumatization, though.

 

“Jeremy…?”

 

His voice sounded wrong, hoarse and faint from the desperate shouting and screaming. No response, which only made the anxiety spike all over again. Michael's answer as to why came soon enough:

 

“I can't really hear him, though.”

 

It was better than being ignored, but it meant he'd have to wait until Jeremy got home to even try to communicate. Better to conserve his depleting energy. Still, he was grateful that internal conditions had gotten better - there was no more churning and sloshing, at least not more than occurred through shifting in position. They'd be home soon, and maybe then this nightmare could end. He sure hoped so, anyways.

 

Maybe he could at least try to rest now - but even that attempt was thwarted. Thwarted by the sound of static - and frankly, he didn't have to be informed what that meant. As the static cleared and a figure formed before him - yep, looked like another confrontation.

 

“Ah, there you are.”

 

“Seriously,  _ now?”  _

 

Addressing the Squip negatively probably wasn't the best idea, but in his current state of mind Michael honestly didn't care how hostile he seemed. It was that technological menace that had gotten him in this mess to begin with, and really, he didn't want to know exactly how it fit into this situation.

 

“Forgive me,” the supercomputer began, tone sounding uncomfortably genuine, “I was a bit too scrambled to check in on you earlier. Alcohol tends to have that effect on me, you see.”

 

Michael instinctively backed up, half wondering if Jeremy was aware of what was going on inside him. Why he could actually see and hear it he wasn't sure, but even still it wasn't a pleasant surprise at all. And to think, just when he thought things couldn't get any worse…

 

“H-How the hell are you... What do you want?”

 

The Squip regarded him incredulously, as though sizing him up. The hologram seemed a tad condescending, especially in light of everything else; the supercomputer was merely a projection, not physically there, while Michael was drenched, slathered, weakened, and terrified. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was in better condition.

 

“I have enough bandwidth to manifest anywhere within Jeremy's systems, including here,” the Squip explained, calmly approaching him, despite Michael's feeble attempts to squirm away. “I get it; you resent me. I'd be surprised if you didn't, for the chaos my actions have thrown you in. It honestly doesn't matter what you think of me, though, Michael - I could hardly care less. But regardless of how you feel I'm the only reason you’re still alive.”

 

Michael's eyes widened, opening his mouth speak but nothing came out. Somehow it made sense, but it seemed the machine figured it best to explain personally.

 

“I'm sure you've been wondering that, haven't you? It's selective nerve blocking, to put it simply. With slight alterations to the gastric nerves, I've made it so you don't register as food - in fact, you don't register as present in here at all. This is of course only to a certain extent; he can still feel you, and it's left in place enough so that I can still monitor your respiration and make sure you can still breathe. Additionally, I've limited the amount of pepsin available to seep in so that no… Mishaps occurred. Wouldn't want things going awry, now, would we?”

 

This was definitely a surprise; Michael had figured direct contact with the Squip would've ended in fatality, so the supercomputer deliberately tampering with Jeremy's biology in such a manner was more than slightly startling.

 

“T-Thank you?”

 

It felt weird showing the Squip any appreciation, but if that was really the case then it was due. The hologram slid over, seeming genuinely sympathetic as it grasped his shoulders. Strangely enough, Michael felt it.

 

“Really,” the Squip crooned, “it's the least I could do in your situation.”

 

“You need to tell me you had nothing to do with this?”

 

The Squip looked stunned, and perhaps a tad bit offended. “Me? This is beneath me. Murder seems so… Cowardly. And especially like this. No direct actions taken, just leaving you at the mercy of his stomach? That's a shame,  _ what a shame. _ You deserve better than that, even if you did set this conflict on yourself.”

 

It was obvious at this point what the Squip was trying to do - play both sides and insinuate further tension. Michael wouldn't have been surprised if the Squip was combing through his thoughts, but he simply didn't care even with this knowledge. Playing to an audience or not, it did feel better having someone to talk to - someone who at least feigned understanding and consolation.

 

“This wasn't what I was expecting. This is just wrong.” It would've felt better, frankly, if the Squip had been involved, but no - all that was Jeremy. He'd figured that out already but the confirmation made him feel sick. The Squip kneaded his shoulders, which surprisingly felt pretty good, what with the soreness and tension that had developed from his struggling.

 

“It'll be over soon - he's nearly come to his senses now. Once he takes control, I'll leave it to him. I can guarantee you I won't intervene for or against your favor, so you'd better hope his intentions are better now. I can say your chances are at least higher than they once were. Best of luck.”

 

He'd figured that much, but it was a relief to hear. Michael sighed, watching the hologram disappear, leaving him alone again. Something about those last words bothered him, but he figured it was better not to dwell on them. For now, all he could do was wait.

 

Thankfully, the rest of the trip didn't last too long. The guilt was coursing through Jeremy's veins at this point, clutching his stomach all the while, refusing to let go as though scared of what would happen if he did. Explaining the situation from what he remembered only had him gritting his teeth. The words felt empty, meaningless. After a while it seemed Christine's assurances died down, too, paying more attention to the road ahead of her. She still didn't seem  _ afraid  _ of him, per se, but it didn't take a genius to tell she questioned his judgement. She certainly wasn't the only one.

 

The final moments of the drive were met with more or less silence, each one of them retreating to their own thoughts. God, how could he have been so  _ stupid?!  _ No fight was worth this, not if it ended like this. All the while the pangs hit Jeremy's chest relentlessly, the only thing keeping him from totally losing it was the presence of that weight in his chest, that occasional shifting around which indicated Michael was still alive. But in what condition…?

 

They pulled up to the driveway, and at this point Jeremy was having trouble forcing back tears. Christine pulled out the keys, handing them to him.

 

“Here, think you’ll need these later.”

 

“Thank you so much - I don't think I would've made it back without…” Jeremy's grasp on his abdomen got tighter, forcing himself to breathe. Both of them stepped out of the car, shutting the doors behind them.

 

“Hey, what are friends for?”

 

Christine walked around, placing a hand on his shoulder. The pangs in his chest just got sharper.

 

“... Yeah. Do you want me to walk you back home?”

 

“It'll be fine; I live around here. Right now, you have something you need to do. Go ahead - I'm fine, promise.”

 

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Jeremy took one last look back, watching Christine leave until she was fully out of sight. Then, quietly, he unlocked the door to his house and slipped inside.

 

It was quiet and dark, and it took a moment for Jeremy to properly navigate. His hand found the rail, keeping a firm grasp on it as he ascended the stairs. Best not to make too big of a deal of things, at least not more so than they already had been. He was still a bit impaired and stumbled a couple times, but it wasn't long until Jeremy found his way to the bedroom, sitting down on his bed and flicking on the light by his nightstand. His hands fumbled for a minute, reaching over for the one device he seemed to have forgotten.

 

A moment later he felt the rubber surface, the earpieces and metallic surface just a little worn. At the time he'd wondered why the hell the Squip had recommended a stethoscope, but now it made perfect sense. How it was easy enough to find he still couldn't vouch for, though. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Heaving a sigh, he laid down on his bed, pressing the chestpiece to his stomach and waiting for a sign that Michael was okay.

 

Dead silence, save for the soft bubbling and gurgling of his stomach. That wasn't particularly reassuring. Then a cough, a shift in movement, feebly sliding further up along his abdomen. Jeremy shifted the device accordingly, gulping down his fears before deciding if best to confirm:

 

“M-Michael…?”

 

Jeremy's voice echoed all around from within, soft and quiet. Judging by the tone, Michael could infer he was being spoken to directly. Now that Jeremy had laid down, he had been about to make another, likely fruitless, attempt at prying himself free - but this seemed to have ceased this notion momentarily.

 

“J-Jeremy…?” The name hardly escaped him, shaky and wary to say the least. Getting himself situated right by the entrance of the stomach he slouched against the wall, crossing his arms against his chest. “About time you noticed.”

 

Jeremy grimaced, able to tell by the way Michael had responded just how worn out he really was. So he was clearly still conscious, and able to speak - that was much better than he'd originally believed, trying to focus on that relief over the ever-creeping guilt and dread. What on earth could he possibly say? It didn't take much insight to know that his actions had been horrid, and there was no going back on them now. There was no taking away what had happened - just… Trying to make up for it. Best to just confirm his current perceptions on the situation.

 

“Oh geez. Are… Are you okay…?”

 

_ “Hell no!” _

 

Jeremy gripped the side of the bed, shaking. Okay, that answer was to be expected but it didn't make it any easier, especially as Michael continued.

 

“The hell do you mean - ‘am I okay?’ After you ate me?! How could you think… Y-You just…  _ ate me…  _ Like I didn't even… _ ”  _

 

Michael trailed off after those words, the realization of them renewed in all its horror. Even from within Jeremy could feel his trembling, only getting more and more prominent by the second.

 

“... I… Know.” The words weren't exactly reassuring, but it was about all that Jeremy could manage at the current moment. “C-Can you check and make sure…?”

 

That sounded a lot more like the Jeremy he knew, not the drunken menace he'd grown accustomed to over the past several hours. Even still, the events he'd been subjected to in that duration left Michael wary at the very least, and still downright pissed about the way he'd been treated.

 

“Physically it doesn't seem like any things happened yet,  _ surprisingly.  _ I can hardly say the same for  _ everything else in here, _ though, and no thanks to you.”

 

Shit, it seemed he'd forgotten about more than Michael's location through the duration of the party. The squirming, the screaming which he heard even back then… There was no fathoming how downright terrifying that must've been. How terrifying it probably still was. Pressing the stethoscope a little further in, he could pick up on the strained and ragged pattern of Michael's breathing, as though trying to keep himself from hyperventilating.

 

“Michael, I'm so sorry…”

 

Jeremy sharply inhaled, hiccuping. The spasms momentarily squeezed everything closer within, met with a rough shove then nothing more. Given the changes in his heart rate and breathing patterns, it did indeed seem Jeremy was being genuine - but there was only one way to really determine the truth.

 

“If you're being serious, then let me out.”

 

There was a certain bitterness in the words that made it even worse, mingled with diffused spite. It almost sounded… Defeated, like he'd accepted fate quite some time ago. Stripped of nearly all emotion. It was… Awful. Nevertheless, the answer to that request was clear.

 

“Of course. Gimme one sec.”

 

Jeremy remained where he was for a moment, keeping the stethoscope pressed against his chest to listen for a potential response. He didn't get one, but it hardly mattered right now. A couple seconds passed, and he carefully, gradually sat back up, trying not to jostle Michael around any more than he already had been. Tentative, shaky hands removed the stethoscope, pulling the earpieces out and setting the device on the bed as he made his way to the bathroom and flicked on the light.

 

The growing disgust with himself had already begun to induce nausea, so maybe that'd be enough. Grasping his stomach, Jeremy leaned over the sink, ramming his index finger down his throat. For a moment he wretched, gasping and gagging, but nothing was coming up. Exactly what he needed right now. Ditching that method quickly, Jeremy reached under the sink, pulling out a cylindrical vial and squinting uneasily at the label. Grimacing, he poured out a small dose of the emetic, downing it quickly to get it over with. Perhaps it would've been best to warn Michael first, but at this point he was beyond desperate.

 

So it seemed Jeremy was on his side at this point - that much was a relief. Perhaps now Michael could collect his scattered thoughts, but of course there was no rest. The retching died down and a loud gulp took its place, but what did that -

 

Yet another splash of liquid fell abruptly upon him, leaving Michael uncertain and furious.

 

“Ugh… What the hell?! Seriously, du- HGK!”

 

It only took a couple seconds for the medicine to take effect, the aching sensation already beginning to settle in. It was only so long after that a rush of movement brought up the contents of his stomach at long last. At first, there was no sign Michael anywhere, and Jeremy prayed the serum hadn’t worn off just a few moments before release. This paranoid thought was quickly whisked away, however, as he felt something much more solid forcing its way from down below, and his minuscule friend came tumbling right out into the sink along with the rest.

 

“MIC-HRK!”

 

Jeremy slapped his hand over his mouth, the spasms continuing even now that his stomach had been emptied. Gasping for breath, Jeremy waited for the awful feeling to die down, trying not to make things worse than they already were. Finally recollecting himself, he willed himself to look down.

 

There were no words which could describe the way Michael was looking at him. Shocked, sapped, and utterly terrified - those were the only ones which seemed to begin to place the emotion. Wiping away the steady stream of tears, slathered from head to toe in chyme - the sight wasn't pleasant, and even less so when Jeremy knew he was the one and only cause of it. As they briefly met eyes, Michael's expression shifted, eyes squinted, teeth bared, and enough venom in that gaze to wipe him out if looks could kill. He deserved it, being regarded with such contempt. Jeremy wasn't going to try and ration otherwise. When he could finally speak, Jeremy figured it best to repeat the confirmation.

 

“Are you…?”

 

“No. And I don't know if I will be.” The acid in the words seeped away as Michael averted his gaze, expression softening. “... I can't believe you did that, you know - I thought I knew you better than that. I thought you… Cared more than that.”

 

Jeremy decided it best if he reciprocated the action, looking up a little bit to allow him a moment to recuperate. Honestly he didn't blame Michael in the slightest. He'd been cruel, he'd been merciless - the alcohol didn't justify it. The reason didn't justify it. That much was understood loud and clear without further discussion on the matter. Breathing in and out, Jeremy wrinkled his nose a bit at the pungent smell of vomit. A hand settled on the faucet, looking down again, and waiting for some kind of response.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Jeremy turned the faucet and allowed the water to trickle down. He gently slid Michael to the side to clear out the majority of the vile substance, then allowed him to settle underneath it, lowering its force. For the most part he left Michael to wash himself off, merely giving him a glob of two of soap as he needed it. Neither one of them spoke a word, both too anxious and bitter about what had happened.

 

It took quite a while until Michael was even remotely satisfied with this; with the sticky film of saliva and stomach acid, patience was required to scrub it off. The relief of the realization hadn't been lost on him, merely overpowered by the… Less positive emotions the situation had elicited. He was alive, and he was out. Jeremy hadn't left him to die after all. But even still, it would be quite some time until he was able to look at his friend the same way again - if ever. Michael tried to brush this thought away as he gave a nod to turn off the faucet, momentarily shrinking back from Jeremy's grasp before allowing himself to be picked up again. In truth, Jeremy meant no harm. It was better to leave the past in the past.

 

But regardless Michael was positive the trauma would remain.

 

Jeremy carefully scooped him up, setting him back down on a washcloth to pat him dry. Or, rather, as dry as he could manage to get Michael after the horrible incident. Then he stepped back and waited. Better not to push things more than necessary.

 

It seemed that Michael was still recollecting himself, coming to terms with what had happened. Fear turned to anger, anger turned to disbelief - and disbelief turned to an apathetic numbness which was grim enough to beat all of those emotions combined. Trying to get a word out, then stifling it, as though he was considering how to even phrase things. Gosh did jeremy hate it. What's worse was the damage that was done was probably irreversible.

 

“What the hell were you even thinking?”

 

The question broke the silence, quiet and uneasy.

 

“I… Wasn't,” Jeremy admitted, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know how the fuck I thought that would…” Jeremy’s words broke off, hardly even comprehending what he was trying to say. He was angry with himself, and seemed to recognize what had happened a bit stronger than he would’ve liked. Tears pricked his eyes, gritting his teeth to avoid crying out. “I… I could’ve… Killed... I should’ve been more careful.” His eyes met with Michael’s for a moment, ready to pull back at any moment - but this didn’t seem necessary. The smaller boy went as far as to approach him, and while blatantly uneasy, it seemed at least Michael knew he was genuine. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Through the stream of tears he could hardly see, but he would’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of a reluctant sigh as Michael finally stepped forward once more.

 

“Look, it’s… Over now,” Michael finally responded, rubbing his arm somewhat nervously. “For now, just promise me you’re  _ never _ going to do that again. I-I don’t want to relive that.”

 

The words came out choked, but Jeremy managed to respond reasonably enough:

 

“You have my word.”


End file.
